


Yak Attack

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 03:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from the episode "So Shall Ye Reap."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yak Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #13 under the pen name Angelica Cooper-Smith.

_"Having him around is an invitation to a yak fuck."_

 

          The Omega Squad filed sluggishly into the waiting troop van.  Behind them the old jail continued to burn while firefighters scurried in, out, and around the building, trying to save it.  It was a futile effort, but they all had a job to do.

          Collapsing on the van benches, the soldiers stowed their gear in the equipment lockers with the well-practiced obliviousness of exhaustion.

          They each sat up a little straighter as the colonel climbed in to join them.  "Listen up," he said, his voice conveying his concern for them.  "It looks like the local authorities can handle the remainder of the clean-up, so we're done.  There's a flight waiting on stand-by for you at O'Hare."

          "What about you, Colonel?" Stavrakos asked.

          "I've got a few loose ends to tie up here.  I'll fly back with the civilians.  I need two volunteers to ride shotgun with me."

          Everyone stood.

          Ironhorse fought back the crooked grin that threatened to lift his lips.  "Stein, Goodson, with me, the rest of you get back to the Cottage."

          The others settled back on the benches while Goodson and Stein collected their gear and fresh ammo, then followed the colonel out of the van.  Stavrakos and Coleman exchanged guilty glances.

          "Should've been us," Stavrakos said.

          "Yeah," Coleman said, trying not to smile.  "But it wasn't."

          "How'd we get so lucky?" he asked.

          She shrugged while the other soldiers chuckled softly.  Leaning forward, Coleman called to the driver, "Let's go, Peterson!"

          "Roger, Sarge," was his reply as the truck's motor turned over and they pulled away from the curb.

          At the airport Peterson drove the troop van directly into the waiting belly of the transport.  The soldiers filed out, taking seats in the webs that lined the walls of the plane.  In less than thirty minutes they were airborne and winging their way back to California.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          A clear, bright dawn greeted the weary soldiers in California.  The landing at Ft. Streeter was smooth.  Once they stopped and the wheels were blocked, Peterson fired up the van, and they headed back to the Cottage.

          Coleman sat in the front seat with the soldier, grateful to escape the grinding buzz of snores echoing from the back of the van.  _Men.  Can't live with 'em, can't use 'em for spare parts…_   She yawned and took another sip of the coffee she'd picked up at the last drive-through.

          "Another hour and we'll be home, Sarge."

          "About time," she grouched around another yawn.  "All I want is a long hot bath, a nice warm bed, and twenty-four uninterrupted hours of bliss."

          "Sounds good to me," Peterson agreed.

          Coleman straightened, then leaned forward, squinting to make out the small object near the roadside.  "Pete, slow down…"

          "What?" the man asked, doing as instructed.

          "Stop."

          "Sarge?"

          Coleman opened the door and jumped out, jogging to the edge of the road.  Bending down she scooped something into her arms and jogged back to the van.  Climbing in, she pulled the door shut, saying, "Okay, let's go."

          "What's that?" Peterson asked, pulling back onto the highway.  Glancing down, he finally realized what Coleman was cradling in her lap.  "A dog?"

          "A puppy," she corrected, checking the tiny animal over for injuries.  "It looks like he's okay."  The handful squirmed on her lap.  "Dirty… skinny…"

          "And hungry from the looks of him," Peterson said.  He nodded at the half-empty bag of French fries on the dash.  "Give him some of those?"

          Coleman reached up and pulled several of the greasy strips free.  The puppy gobbled them up and whined for more.  "Easy, you little grease-ball," she scolded.  "He's really hungry."

          "How can you tell?" Peterson teased, feeding the pup several more fries.  "All I can see is dirt and matted fur.  I can't even tell what color he is."

          "Well, when we get back, we'll clean him up and find out."

          "Back?"  Peterson glanced away from the road long enough to meet Coleman's eyes.  "Sarge, you're not thinking about taking him back to the Cottage, are you?"

          "Where else?"

          "Sarge…"

          "Hey, come on, we can't just leave him alongside the road, can we?"

          "No, but—"

          "The old man let Debi have a dog."

          "I know, but you know what happened."

          "That won't happen to this one."

          "But the K-9s…"

          "He's not going to be a K-9, just a pet.  Debi's pet."

          Peterson's eyes narrowed and he shook his head.  "Uh-huh…"

          "And ours," Coleman added.

          "Derriman's never going to go for it."

          "We'll see," she said, cuddling the pup while he licked her neck and ear.  "One sorrowful look and a lick on the cheek and he'll crumble like an old brick wall."

          "Wanna bet?" Peterson challenged.

          "I hate to take your money, Pete, but you're on.  Fifty?"

          Peterson nodded.  "Easy money."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "What the hell is that?" Derriman growled.

          Coleman smiled.  "It's a puppy, Sarge."

          The rest of the Omegans headed slowly to the coach house, hoping to see the explosion before courtesy forced them to enter.

          "I can see _that_ , Norah, but why the hell's it _here?_ "

          "Well…"

          Derriman shook his head.  "The old man'll never go for it."

          "Look, we can—"

          "No."

          "Oh, come on, John," Coleman said, stepping closer to Derriman and holding out the pup, who dangled in her hands, his tail tucked firmly between his hind legs.  He whined plaintively.  "Just look at him."

          "No!"

          She shoved the pup closer and started to let go.  Derriman reacted by instinct, catching the bundle of fur before the pup fell more than a few inches.

          "Norah!" he chastised.  "What do you think you're doing?  You could've hurt him."

          "Sorry," she said, watching as the pup began to clean Derriman's chin with his pink and black tongue.  The long curled tail wagged furiously.

          John pulled the excited mop away from his face, staring at it.  "Ah, Christ, Norah…"

          "So, can we keep him?"

          Derriman leveled a hard glower on his platoon sergeant.  "You're a real—"

          "Now, now," she said, trying not to smile.  "No reason to get nasty, John.  I can take him to the pound.  They'll clean him up, maybe find him a home.  If not…"  She shrugged.  "I guess being put down is better than starving or getting hit by a car…"

          "Oh, stop it," the old sergeant grumbled, cuddling the pup against his chest.  He turned and started for the coach house, noticing the others watching.  "And what the hell are y'all lookin' at?  I've got plenty of details that need to be done!"

          The group disappeared inside except for Stavrakos, who reached out and scratched the pup's head.  "He is sort 'a cute, ain't he?"

          "Glad you think so," Derriman said, thrusting the dog into Stavrakos' arms.  "You and Norah can give him a bath."

          "Now?" Alex almost squeaked.  "But we just—"

          "Now, Alex.  Right now."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Get him!" Norah hollered.

          Stavrakos lunged at the lapful of drowned rat, banged his knee on the cabinet, but managed to scoop the dripping pup up in one hand.  He wiggled and kicked his back legs, slipping free.  He hit the tile floor, toenails clicking.

          "Ahhh!"

          "Move," Coleman growled, elbowing past Alex and almost tripping on the throw rug.  Her arms flailed and she backhanded Stavrakos, who stumbled backward, colliding with the commode.

          The pup ran to the closed door and jumped up, scratching at the paint and barking.

          "Stop that!" Norah told him, grabbing the wet lump of fur.  "Quick, give me a towel!"

          "Just a second."

          "Now!"

          "I'm workin' on it!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Derriman stood outside the coach house bathroom, listening to the battle that raged within.  He chuckled softly to himself.  Well, they deserved it.  _They_ brought it home.

          He grimaced at a loud crash as Stavrakos went down.  "Ouch!"

          "Grab him!" echoed out.

          "Sounds like a yak fuck to me," Derriman muttered as the door bust open and two wet soldiers and a wiggling towel burst out.

          "Get him!" Norah yelled at Derriman.

          The older sergeant reached down and snatched the fuzzy blue towel off the pup, revealing a fuzzy tan ball of fluff with black eyes, black nose, and a blond tail that curled over his back to rest jauntily on his left hip.  The pup sat down and looked up at Derriman, the odd pink and black tongue dipping out of his mouth.

          Yap!

          "I think he's hungry," John surmised.  "Why don't you two get changed and go pick up some puppy chow."

          "Us?" Alex squeaked.  "We've been up for damn near seventy-two hours, Sarge!"

          "I'll go," Norah said, a lopsided smile on her face as she knelt down and gave the puppy a quick scratch on the neck.  He immediately flopped down and rolled over, displaying his belly for similar attention.  She laughed, then looked up at Derriman.  "You can't fool me, John Derriman."

          "I'm going to bed," Alex mumbled, stumbling off, leaving a trail of water drops in his wake.

          "I'll go get the dog food," Norah said, standing.

          "No," Derriman said with a grin, "you need the sleep.  Put Yak in one of the stalls and I'll go get the food."

          "Thanks, John," she said, scooping the puppy up.  She started off, then stopped and turned.  "Yak?"

          "Yep," Derriman said, heading down the hall.  "Havin' him around is an invitation to a yak fuck."

          "A yak fuck?"  She looked down at the grunting bundle of fur, noticing the huge paws for the first time.  "He might be right…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Coleman conducted a quick recon before heading from the coach house to the barn.  Almost seventy-two hours had passed since they'd found Yak.  Debi and Mrs. Pennyworth had been notified and were presently working on converting Suzanne.  Norton had been informed and was responsible for securing Blackwood's cooperation.  That just left the colonel…

          Reaching the barn, she paused as Ironhorse rounded the corner, coming from the pool.  "Sergeant," he said casually.

          "Good morning, sir," she said, trying to create some excuse for her presence.

          "Anything wrong?" he asked.

          "Uh, no, sir.  Nothing."

          Ironhorse's eyes narrowed slightly.

          "I was just, uh, taking a walk," she said.  "Needed to get some air."

          He studied her, weighing the words, and reaching some conclusion she couldn't fathom.  "Carry on," he replied, heading back toward the Cottage.

          She waited until he was out of sight before collapsing back against the barn.  "That was smooth, real smooth," she chastised herself, then slipped inside.

          Yak bounded from the far side of the far stall to greet her.  Jumping up on the door, he fluttered his curled tail at her and panted happily.  She reached down and opened the door, slipping inside before he could escape.  First food, then a brushing, then a good tussle in the hay.  He was already filing out, his ribs slowly disappearing beneath a healthy layer of puppy-plump.

          "How's he doing?"

          Norah jumped, and swung around to find Derriman standing outside the stall.  "Fine.  He sure looks a lot better, doesn't he?"

          John nodded.  "When are we going to tell the old man?"

          She shrugged.  "I'll see where Norton and Debi are on getting Dr. McCullough and Dr. Blackwood converted.  Once that's a done deal, then we can introduce Yak to the colonel."

          Derriman fought back a grin.  "I want a front row seat for that one."

          "Me, too," Norah admitted.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Okay," Coleman reported to the assembled group of Omegans, "it looks like we have the civilians on our side.  They've all met Yak and they've all responded in the positive, especially Debi, who's our secret weapon."

          "So, how do we win the old man over?" Stavrakos asked.

          Coleman smiled.  "I have a plan…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse entered the barn, his gaze sweeping the interior for any sign of Debi.  Nothing.

 _Funny_ , he thought.  Her note to him had been very specific as to the time they were supposed to meet for their riding lesson.  Still, it was entirely possible that something important had delayed the girl.  With that in mind he decided to saddle their two mounts so they could start as soon as she arrived.

          Proceeding down the short line of stalls toward Belle and Ulysses, Ironhorse paused.  What was that sound?

          Scratching…

          Muffled gurgles…

          He stepped closer to the empty stall.  A soft rustling issued from inside, like something was searching the walls for a means of escape…

          The short hairs on the back of the colonel's neck bristled and his fingers itched for the M-9 he'd left inside.  A quick glance into the interior revealed nothing.  Whatever it was, it was hiding under the straw.  A large rat?  A raccoon?  A skunk?  He sniffed the air and found no telltale lingering odor.  Maybe it was just a field mouse.

          The gurgle sounded again.

          No, too big for that…

          He edged to the door.  The creature did the same.  He reached out and lifted the sliding lock, easing it back.  The door swung open slightly and whatever it was skittered out, through Ironhorse's legs and into the barn.

          He spun.  Where was it?

          "Colonel?"

          He spun a second time and took a step backward.  Something rushed behind his legs.  He lost his balance and, arms flailing, fell back onto the straw.

          Before he could stop it a small bundle of fuzz leaped into his lap and industriously set to work clearing his face.

          Debi laughed.

          "What is this?" Ironhorse demanded, grabbing the pup around the middle and holding him out of chin's reach.

          Yak squirmed, his back legs kicking as he grunted his displeasure.

          "That's Yak," the girl informed him.  "Isn't he cute?"

          Paul eyed the creature.  Tan, fuzzy, with a delicate pink belly.  Naturally Debi found him cute.  "Where did he come from?"

          Debi hesitated.

          "Where?" he repeated.

          "The Omegans brought him home."

          "The Omeg—?"  Standing, he tucked the pup under one arm and stalked out of the barn, Debi trailing.

          "He's really a good puppy," she said to begin her sales pitch.  "And he's real smart, and he likes the horses, and—"  She broke off when the colonel reached the coach house door and didn't bother to knock.

          The Omegans in the kitchen scrambled to attention as Ironhorse barreled in.

          "Attention!" Goodson yelled, alerting the others.

          "As you were," Ironhorse said, sitting the pup down on one of the picnic tables.  "Would someone please tell me what the hell that is?"

          "Sergeant Dartany thinks he's part Chow and maybe Pyrenees or Saint Bernard," Coleman obliged, referring to the unit's resident veterinarian tech.

          Ironhorse fixed his platoon sergeant with a hard stare.  "That's _not_ what I meant," he explained, eyeing the dog.  Yak sat quietly, watching the exchange.  "I mean, what is he doing here?"

          "We, hmm…" Coleman started, but Peterson cut her off.

          "Found him along the highway coming back from Streeter."

          "And they couldn't just leave him out there," Debi added.  "He was cold, and dirty, and hungry, and—"

          "Thank you, Debi."

          "He's perfectly healthy, though," Goodson added.  "Dartany and I checked him over real good.  And give him all his shots."

          "And he got a bath, too," Derriman added, trying not to smile.

          "Damn right," Stavrakos added under his breath.  "A real _good_ bath."

          "And he's already learned his name," Debi slipped in.  "And we're teaching him to sit, and come, and lay down, and roll over, and shake hands."

          The colonel surveyed the hopeful expressions that surrounded him.  The pup had infected them all.  His elite Special Forces soldiers, ga-ga over a puppy.  "Do the civilians know about this?"

          "Yes, sir," Coleman replied.  "They, uh, really like the little guy, sir."

          Ironhorse glanced down at the pup.  "He's not going to be a 'little guy' for very long."

          "But we have lots of room," Debi countered.  "He's already stall broken."

          Paul looked at the girl.  "Are you going to take responsibility for him, young lady?"

          "We all are," Coleman said.

          Ironhorse looked from Debi to Coleman to Derriman.

          "We'd all like to keep him around, Colonel," the old sergeant said.

          Paul chuckled.  "Well, he does seem to like it here," he said, watching Yak curl up on the table and drop off to sleep.

          "So, we can keep him?" Debi asked, her excitement bubbling over.

          "I don't see why not.  We do have the room."

          "Cool!" she exploded, rushing forward to give the colonel a hug.

          Paul looked across to Derriman.  "Yak, huh?"

          The older man shrugged and grinned.  "Seemed appropriate."

          Ironhorse shook his head.  "That's what I'm afraid of."


End file.
